


Three Valentines

by LerxstInSpace



Series: Contingency Plan-verse [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chronic Illness, Established Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together, Moving On, Past Character Death, Post-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 09:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerxstInSpace/pseuds/LerxstInSpace
Summary: Three men, three relationships, and three Valentine's Days.Heavily references "Contingency Plan" (that would be the first fic in this here series) all the way through but especially near the end.





	Three Valentines

“Are you absolutely sure you’re up to this?”

 

Shiro knew Adam meant well... but how many times was he going to ask tonight? He’d asked at least twice while they were getting ready, once in the car on the way to the restaurant, and now he was asking again while they waited for their table. He meant well. Shiro knew that, and he knew he’d probably be a lot worse off if he didn’t have Adam there to help him on his bad days. But it was starting to grate on his nerves, just a little.

 

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks and it’s Valentine’s Day.” he said. “Don’t ask me to go bungee jumping or anything but dinner and a movie? Yes. I am absolutely sure I’m up to this.” Shiro wrapped his arm around Adam’s shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. “I missed you.”

 

He’d just gotten back from a mission to the Callisto base the day before. He was fine this time, but... in Adam’s defense, last time he came home from a mission, he wasn’t. It was like his body and his mind had just sort of run out of gas, and he barely remembered Adam helping him into bed when he got home. He definitely didn’t remember much if anything of the next full day or two. And that was a much shorter mission.

 

Three weeks of twelve-plus hour shifts in the pilot seat could catch up with the healthiest people in the worst ways. And okay, yeah, Shiro wasn’t the healthiest person, so he understood why the _I’m fine_ autoresponse wasn’t sitting right. But he wished Adam could just this once take it at face value.

 

“We can skip the movie if you--”

 

“Adam.”

 

“You just came home from a three-week mission and I don’t want you to push too hard right now, okay? You remember what happened last time.”

 

“Yes, and that’s why I went in to see about tweaking my meds, remember? So that wouldn’t happen again.” Shiro rubbed Adam’s back, and Adam shut his eyes and huffed out a breath. “Look--yeah, I’m tired. I’m _really_ damn tired. But I’m happy to be home and I want to do something nice with you tonight and I’m okay. Please, I’m begging you, stop worrying for just one night.”

 

“Okay. _Okay.”_ Of course Shiro knew Adam wasn’t going to just up and stop worrying like _that,_ but at least he put forth the appearance of trying. “You’re going straight to bed when we get home, though.”

 

“I was planning on that.” Oh, Shiro knew he shouldn’t. He _knew_ it, but... man, that was some low-hanging fruit. “And I’m taking you with me, _”_ he added with a wicked little grin.

 

Okay, _that_ got a genuine laugh out of Adam. Good.

 

Really, he was okay. He got back to Earth early the morning before, came straight home once he got out of debrief and took a long nap, went to bed at a normal time, woke up at a normal time, and took it easy all day. He was fine and Adam was just being his usual well-meaning but kind of overprotective self.

 

The restaurant was kind of dark, which was good. And kind of loud, which wasn’t. But they got their drinks (iced tea for Adam, water with lemon for Shiro-- _see, look,_ he thought, _I’m being good, no caffeine)_ and their appetizers and everything was fine. Shiro even felt himself perk up a little after he ate a couple of those baked potato skin things. He was exhausted, yeah, but just the garden-variety kind, the kind that some good food and some good company would fix.

 

But then halfway through their steaks, Shiro suddenly wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

 

The ambient noise was starting to wear on him; every clink and clatter echoed in his head, ricocheting off the inside of his skull like bullets. _Oh God,_ he thought, _please let there not be any birthday people here tonight._ And the low ambient light was a net positive, but it just made every flash of light that _did_ hit his eyes that much more intense.

 

Adam must have noticed--of course he noticed, he’d probably been mentally prepping for this the whole time they’d been there--because he put his fork down and gently laid his hand on Shiro’s forearm. “What’s wrong?”

 

Shiro shook his head. He could tough it out. Finish dinner, then sit in a comfortable chair in a dark room for a couple of hours. Which movie were they going to see? He couldn’t remember. Something with explosions, probably. Something loud.

 

_Shit._

 

He hated to do this. He’d left Adam sleeping alone for three weeks and it was Valentine’s Day, but he could already tell this was going to be a bad one. Goddammit, why couldn’t that fucking thing pick literally _any other night_ to do this to him?

 

“I think I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on the movie after all,” he said.

 

“...shit. Okay. Hi, excuse me--” Adam waved at someone behind Shiro, probably the waiter. “Can I get the check please?” Shiro winced a little at the volume, but... well, the restaurant was noisy, Adam would have to be noisy to get the guy’s attention, nothing they could do about that. “Headache?”

 

“Not yet.” Shiro closed his eyes, but that just intensified the noise. “It’s coming, though.” He rubbed his temples and he could already feel his hands shaking.

 

Adam paid the check, assured the waiter the food was fine, they just had something come up and they needed to go, and helped Shiro up as casually as he could. “Come on,” he said. “Arm around my shoulders. Lean on me if you need to. There you go.”

 

They got back into the parking lot, and Adam got him into the car and buckled in. “Sorry,” he said, leaning back into the seat as Adam backed out of their parking spot. “I thought I was okay.”

 

“Don’t.” Adam pulled out onto the road. “Don’t be sorry. Just sit back and close your eyes.”

 

The headache proper finally hit a couple blocks away from the house, and things got a little fuzzy after that as they always did. Shiro remembered Adam helping him up out of the seat, and carrying him to the bedroom, and helping him out of his clothes, and making him take one of the horse tranquilizer-strength pills Medical gave him for these damn things. He sort of remembered Adam insisting he lay on his side and vaguely remembered hoping like hell the pill stayed down long enough to work this time. But mostly he just remembered blinding pain until the pill kicked in.

 

He drifted in and out of consciousness for a while. The painkillers didn’t dull the headache enough to let him sleep properly; all he could hope for was to just sort of check out of reality for a few minutes at a time.

 

It was impossible to say how long he lay there like that, but when he came to his senses again he noticed warmth against his back. Adam had crawled into bed with him and curled up against him, one arm around his waist, face pressed gently between his shoulder blades.

 

“Hey,” Shiro said, or tried to. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His head was still pounding, but at least he could open his eyes a little. “Adam.”

 

“Huh?” Adam jerked awake instantly, if he’d been asleep at all. “Hey. You need something?”

 

God, despite the fact that they were the only thing that could even touch these headaches Shiro hated those fucking pills. When a headache hit it was hard enough for him to turn thoughts into out-loud words to begin with, but being stoned on this shit made it almost impossible. “Hall closet. Top shelf. Ri... left side? Yeah. Left. All the way in the back.”

 

“Is this word salad, or are you telling me to go look there?” Adam asked. It was a fair question.

 

“Go look.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Adam slid off the bed and padded out into the hall. There were rummaging noises. Shiro closed his eyes and waited.

 

He must have drifted out again for a minute, because the next thing he knew Adam was settling back on his side of the bed. He heard soft crinkling noises, like ribbon and wrapping paper, and smiled a little.

 

“Big bag of--black jellybeans?”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

“And a coffee mug that says... can’t see, I’ll look at it later--”

 

“Turn the light on.”

 

“Are you sure? Ugh... okay, cover your eyes.”

 

Shiro flopped an arm over his eyes and heard the lamp click.

 

“...’Cadet tears.’ That’s horrible, Takashi.” The lamp clicked again and Shiro felt a gentle kiss on his temple. “By which I mean it’s perfect. Thank you.”

 

“Hid it before I left,” Shiro said. “Just in case...” He flapped a hand in a clumsy gesture he hoped would get _just in case this shit happened_ across.

 

Warmth on his back again. “I got you something too. You can open it when you’re feeling better.” Another soft kiss, this time to the back of his head.

 

The thing about these headaches and the meds Shiro had to take for them was, sometimes he wasn’t sure which words were staying in his head and which were actually coming out of his mouth. But he must have let some of what was in his head out of his mouth, because he felt Adam’s arm tighten around his waist and heard a long, shaky breath against his back.

 

“I’m staying with you because _I love you,_ you fucking walnut. Because I see the way you want to protect everyone and take care of everyone and I want to do that for _you._ You’re the strongest, bravest, most amazing person I’ve ever met and--” There was a long silence, a sniffle, and another shaky breath. “And I just... I wish I knew how to make you understand that you don’t have to prove it to everyone all the time and you don’t _ever_ have to prove it to me.”

 

There was a lot Shiro wanted to say to that, but none of it was coming out of his mouth. At least, not in any kind of actual words. Whatever _was_ coming out of his mouth must not have been too alarming, at least, because Adam just settled in against his back and kissed the back of his head again.

 

“Don’t be sorry. Just... just be okay. Go back to sleep, baby. I love you.”

 

Shiro wasn’t sure whether he said _love you too_ out loud or not, but either way the point seemed to get across.

 

* * *

 

To be honest, Adam really wasn’t looking forward to Valentine’s Day this year.

 

Two years ago he’d spent it nursing Takashi through one of his killer migraines.

 

One year ago he’d spent it single for the first time in his adult life while Takashi and his crew headed for some little ball of rock and ice called Kerberos. Single, but not alone, at least. Curtis was single too, as he usually was for reasons Adam could never quite figure out, and they watched TV and ate takeout and talked about literally fucking _anything_ but the Kerberos mission.

 

This year, he and Curtis were together and Adam knew he _should_ have been looking forward to this. But he wasn’t.

 

He still had that coffee mug on his desk, and he still made a big show out of picking it up and taking a long refreshing drink from it when cadets who put their essays off until the last possible minute for no good reason came to him begging for an extension or a morsel of extra credit. But every time he looked at that mug, he remembered Takashi half-conscious and blitzed out of his mind on weapons-grade painkillers, telling him where to look for the present he’d hidden, asking why Adam didn’t just leave him, and he felt his stomach turn.

 

He _did_ end up leaving. Adam still hated himself a little for that.

 

Takashi wanted him to move on, to find someone who’d take care of _him,_ said so in so many words in that letter Adam had kept in his back pocket for months before he finally laid it to rest in that shoebox full of memories. And he was trying. God, he was trying and bless Curtis, he was so patient and so kind and he understood everything, he’d been there through the worst of it. But sometimes it was hard to leave the past in the past--especially the parts of the past he wished he could undo.

 

 _No,_ he told himself, _don’t think about that right now. Think about it tomorrow, or literally any other time besides right now._ Curtis was going to be at his door any minute now to take him out for a nice dinner and maybe somewhere for a couple of drinks and some dancing and then they were going to come back to one of their rooms and have a whole hell of a lot of toe-curling hot sex and dammit, Adam was _not_ going to spend the whole night listening to his own voice in his head telling him he didn’t deserve it.

 

Mostly because he knew that if he tried to, Curtis would call him on it and then spend the rest of the night pampering him until he believed he _did_ deserve it.

 

There was a knock on the door, and Adam put on his bravest face and answered it.

 

Roses. God, he’d brought _roses._ Already in a vase, so Adam wouldn’t even have to hunt one down or leave the poor roses on the counter to die while they were out. And bless him, Curtis set them down on the nearest surface without waiting for direction and then wrapped both his arms tight around Adam.

 

“You okay?” Curtis asked gently. “You look kind of down.”

 

“Yeah. Just... memories. Y’know.” Adam pulled back a little and stretched up to kiss him.

 

“Mmm. If you’d rather stay in--”

 

“No.” Adam buried his face in the side of Curtis’ neck and breathed in the scent of cedar and sandalwood, the scent that always managed to soothe even his most frazzled nerves, the scent he’d come to associate with calm and comfort. “I don’t want to be one of those bitter old farts that hates Valentine’s Day forever. I need new memories.”

 

“Okay. You know I won’t mind if you need to call it a night early, right?”

 

“I know.”

 

They went to that Italian restaurant they both liked for dinner. Then to that quiet bar they both liked for a couple of drinks and a little slow dancing.

 

“I was thinking, um...” Curtis murmured into Adam’s ear while they swayed in each others’ arms. “I think we...” He sounded nervous. He _never_ sounded nervous. “I’d kind of like to start...”

 

 _Seeing other people,_ Adam’s brain autocompleted, and he felt his shoulders tense up and the bottom of his stomach threaten to drop out even though he knew perfectly well Curtis was not going to dump him and certainly wasn’t going to dump him on fucking Valentine’s Day. _Come on, brain,_ he thought, _what the hell?_ But there were only so many ways one’s boyfriend might finish that sentence, and the only other one was something like--

 

“...looking at apartments.”

 

Adam picked his head up off Curtis’s shoulder and stared at him. He must have had some kind of bewildered look on his face, because Curtis’ eyes went wide and the tips of his ears started turning purple.

 

“I mean,” he went on, “maybe it’s a little too soon for that, I guess--”

 

Adam shook his head. “No, I--” His mind raced.

 

Looking at apartments.

 

_Curtis wanted to live with him._

 

“I want to, I just--I need to--” Adam finally stammered. He _did_ want to move in with Curtis, that wasn’t the issue, the issue was just--well, no, it wasn’t even that he hadn’t thought about it, because he had. At great length, and in great detail. Even from a purely practical standpoint, the idea was appealing. From a less than practical standpoint, it sounded _divine._

 

He just--

 

Adam knew this was stupid, because didn’t they already practically live together? Didn’t they already spend most of their evenings on one of their couches and most of their nights in one of their beds? But he just couldn’t wrap his brain around the idea that Curtis would want to officially move into an actual apartment with him. “Can we... can we talk about it later?”

 

“Okay.” Curtis drew him close and rubbed his back. “I’ve just been thinking about it for a while, just wanted to throw it out there.”

 

The idea lodged itself in Adam’s mind and stayed there for the rest of the night. It stayed there while they danced, it stayed there in the car all the way back to the dorm, it stayed there while they made love as passionately as they could in that tiny Garrison-issue bed.

 

It stayed there long after they had cleaned up and curled up together, and it kept Adam awake for what felt like an eternity.

 

“Curtis?” he finally whispered.

 

“Mm?”

 

“Why are you still with me?”

 

Curtis was quiet for a while, but Adam could feel him smiling against the back of his shoulder. “Is this a trick question?”

 

“No, you smartass!” Curtis laughed at that, and he had such a contagious laugh that Adam couldn’t help joining him. “I’ve known you since we were cadets. You’ve never stayed with anyone this long. Why me?”

 

Curtis thought about that for a while, and if it hadn’t been for the thumb stroking the back of Adam’s hand, Adam might have thought he’d just gone back to sleep. “There are a lot of reasons,” he finally said. “But most of all... with everyone else I always felt like I had to be someone different for them. Like I had to hide something I liked or something I was interested in because... I don’t know, because they’d think it was silly or weird or something. With you it’s not like that. When I’m with you, I don’t have to change anything. I don’t have to hide anything.” He shrugged. “When I’m with you I feel like myself, except... better.”

 

Adam tried to process the idea of someone wanting this sweet, gentle, gorgeous man to be anything other than what he was, and came up empty. But he did understand what Curtis was saying, because he felt the same way.

 

“I want a big kitchen and it needs to be close to the base,” Adam finally said, and Curtis kissed the back of his shoulder and held him tight.

 

* * *

 

The power was on, the water was on, and the Net guy had come and gone and gotten _that_ taken care of. They had toilet paper and all the appliances worked. The thermostat worked. The house was almost perfectly fit for human habitation. Almost.

 

Except for one small problem...

 

“Well, you said you’d have it out here and in the house by five o’clock today, it’s after six, and I haven’t seen Piece One of furniture on our property. Yes, we’ve been here, _you haven’t._.. yeah, I’ll hold.”

 

Well, Curtis figured as he watched Takashi pace around their new and almost empty living room with the phone to his ear, it could have been worse. At least they had an air mattress to sleep on and they had the kotatsu in the living room, so they’d have somewhere to eat the pizza that was on its way.

 

“Guy said he’s getting me the general manager,” Takashi said over his shoulder. “Feel free to say ‘I told you so,’ by the way.”

 

“You know I don’t do that,” Curtis said. He might have been _thinking_ it--he’d suggested that maybe they should just get the furniture in now and wait until the weekend to actually move in, but Takashi was so excited about finally getting out of the dorm and thought it would be so cool to officially move into their new house on Valentine’s Day that he couldn’t help but go along with it.

 

But the house came unfurnished other than the usual assortment of major appliances. And now the furniture they’d bought last week to fill it up, the furniture that was _supposed_ to have been delivered today, had mysteriously fallen off the radar. The notable exception: the kotatsu. Takashi had ordered it before they even closed on the house, and it made the trip from Japan to Arizona in two days. The rest of their furniture was allegedly somewhere between a warehouse in Phoenix and their house. And that was the last they’d heard of it.

 

And so, they were spending Valentine’s Day in a house that had one (1) piece of actual furniture in it. But no matter how much he might have thought it, Curtis did not say “I told you so.” Instead, he just came up behind Takashi and laid his hands on his shoulders, kneading out the tension that had been building ever since they first started to realize something fishy might be going on with their furniture.

 

“Hello? Yeah, I-- _hnnnng_ yeah, right there. Wh--no, not you! I--never mind. Listen, we were supposed to have our furniture delivered today and--uh, Takashi Shirogane--sure, I can spell it for you...”

 

Someday they were going to look back on this and laugh. Honestly, Curtis was already laughing by the time the doorbell rang. “I’ve got it,” he said, patting Takashi on the shoulders.

 

Curtis knew the owner of this particular pizza place fairly well--he used to be one of the cooks on the _Atlas_. He responded very well to kindness and modest bribes and he could be gently persuaded to provide services he normally wouldn’t, like asking his delivery driver to make a stop on the way and pick up something else Curtis needed delivered.

 

And so, a pizza guy showed up on their brand new doorstep with a large pizza, some cold drinks, some chocolate breadsticks... and a dozen red roses already tucked into a vase.

 

Takashi watched all this stuff come in the door with mild interest--well, he was hungry--but when the delivery guy handed over the roses and Curtis in turn handed them to Takashi, he almost dropped the phone. Curtis just smiled and tipped the kid generously and thanked him for going out of his way.

 

Takashi plucked the card off the roses and set the vase on the bare mantel. “Okay, but you said--yeah, 314 Ashdale--yeah, I’ll hold...” He took that opportunity to read the card. “Aww. Hey, go look in the cabinet in the island.”

 

The cabinet in the island? They hadn’t put any of the kitchen stuff up yet, had they? They’d agreed to not unpack anything else other than toilet paper and other such absolute necessities before that one box in the living room marked _UNPACK ME FIRST,_ and they were waiting on the furniture before they did that...

 

Well, whatever. Curtis deposited the pizza and drinks and stuff on the kotatsu and headed into the kitchen and... was Takashi watching him?

 

Was that a little bit of a grin?

 

No, Curtis didn’t remember them putting anything there, but... there _was_ something there. A big heart-shaped shiny red box of chocolates--the really good ones, the _fancy_ ones--with a card taped on the front of it.

 

The card said simply: _You are what you eat. Love you._

 

It took all of Curtis’ willpower to leave the box on the island and not tear it open and start grazing on the candy--he could always count on Takashi to bring the best treats for his sweet tooth. But there was a pizza in there that needed to be eaten first, and a fiancee that needed to be properly thanked.

 

“No, it _hasn’t_ been delivered. We’ve been here all day waiting. Haven’t seen a truck or anything. ...okay, I don’t care what your system says, it hasn’t been--wait. Hang on. Important business. Lemme put you on hold a second.” Takashi pulled the phone away from his ear long enough to let Curtis pull him in for a quick kiss. Or two. Or three. “Mmm. Okay. Uh... what? No, like I said, we’ve been here all day and nobody’s showed up. No, they _didn’t_ knock on the door or ring the doorbell. No, they didn’t leave it in the driveway! Listen. No, _listen._ I can _see_ the driveway from where I’m standing and there is no furniture in it. Why would you even leave a whole houseful of furniture in the--okay. Sure, I’ll hold some more, why not.”

 

Oh, _none_ of that sounded good.

 

Curtis went into the cleaning supplies-and-temporary-houseware bag for the paper plates and napkins. Then he popped the pizza box open--ground beef, onions, and jalapenos on his side, and pepperoni, olives, and tomatoes on Takashi’s--and served up a couple of slices. “Come on,” he said, patting the floor next to him. “Pull up some carpet and eat while you’re on hold.”

 

“Ugh...” Takashi plopped down in front of the kotatsu. It wasn’t chilly enough to turn the little heater on, but he pulled the blanket over his lap and then inhaled half a slice of pizza. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, they’re saying they delivered it and left it in the driveway because nobody was here, which-- _no?”_ He shook his head and finished off his slice. “I’m sorry about this.”

 

A slice of pizza stopped halfway to Curtis’ mouth. “Sorry about what?”

 

“I just--” Takashi waved his free hand and sighed. “I had this idea that we were going to move in on Valentine’s Day and everything was going to be perfect and...”

 

“It _is.”_ Curtis wrapped his free arm around Takashi’s shoulders and drew him close. “It _is_ perfect.”

 

“It’s a perfect clusterfuck, is what it is,” Takashi snorted around another mouthful of pizza, and Curtis gave him a playful swat on the knee.

 

“Come on. We’re in our very own house and we’ve got a place to sleep and a place to eat and running water and all that good stuff. _It’s fine_. It’s all going to be fine.”

 

“Yeah... I guess. It’d be a lot nicer if we didn’t have to sleep on a glorified pool float tonight, though.” Takashi leaned up to kiss him. “Uh, speaking of... is the stuff in one of the boxes or--”

 

“My gym bag,” Curtis finished, and Takashi grinned. “Figured we’d want that handy.”

 

“Heh. Good thinking--hey. Yeah. Hi. What’s up? ...no, like I said, we’ve been here all day and... wait. Wait. Hang on. What did you say? 314 ... _what!?_ No, not Ashglen, Ash _dale!”_

 

“Oh no.” All at once Curtis had the worst feeling that he knew _exactly_ where their furniture was--or at least, given a minute or two and a map, he could find out exactly where it was. “They _didn’t.”_

 

Takashi just sat there listening, eyes widening in increasing horror and disbelief. “...are you shitting me!?” he finally spluttered.

 

They did. Oh, they absolutely did.

 

_“You left our furniture in someone else’s driveway!?”_

 

Curtis turned away and pressed his fist to his mouth to stifle the helpless laughter bubbling up out of him, and that just made Takashi burst out laughing too. He knew this really _wasn’t_ funny--that was a whole houseful of furniture, after all, it wasn’t cheap, and the delivery people had just... left it in some stranger’s driveway. But the delivery people were human and mistakes happened. And now that the manager knew what happened, they could go about getting that furniture out of that stranger’s driveway and into their house where it belonged. Nobody was hurt, nobody died, no real lasting harm done. So...

 

So yeah, actually, it _was_ pretty funny.

 

It was amazing to see Takashi laugh like that again, the way he used to before he got sick, before Kerberos, before the war. It had taken a lot of patience and a lot of love and care and a lot of very hard work on a lot of very difficult issues, but over the past few years Curtis could see Takashi’s playful side starting to come out again. Even now, even as frustrating as this whole ordeal with the furniture was, he could still see the humor in it.

 

But even through his laughter Takashi had that look in his eye, the one that said he was On A Mission. He reached across the room with his right hand to grab his laptop, and Curtis leaned back to let it by. “Oh _hell_ no, I know we didn’t give you the wrong--” Takashi flipped his laptop open and tapped on some stuff. “Uh huh. That’s what I thought. Yeah, I’m gonna have to call you on that, I’m looking at the receipt right now and it says Ash _dale._ Go ahead and pull it up, you don’t have to take my word for--uh huh! You _think? ..._ okay! Great! Fantastic! You do that!” And with that, he hung up and dropped the phone on the floor next to him and just sort of flopped over backwards, wheezing helpless laughter. “He says he’ll call back in half an hour. They’re--they’re sending the truck back over to get it right now--if it’s even still there, God, you know if I came home to a bunch of random furniture and shit in my driveway I’d--what would I even do?”

 

“Yes hello, police?” Curtis said into an imaginary phone. “Please help me, I’ve been reverse burgled.”

 

Takashi sat back up and plopped his head onto Curtis’ shoulder, still laughing. “Imagine getting home from work and not being able to get into your garage because your driveway’s full of someone else’s furniture...”

 

“Imagine working the night shift and having to tell your boss you can’t come to work because you can’t get _out_ of your garage, because your driveway’s full of someone else’s furniture.”

 

“Oh _shit._ But yeah. They know they screwed up and they’ll get it straightened out one way or another.” Takashi sat up, finished off his pizza, and glanced over at the pile of boxes in the corner, the pile with the _UNPACK ME FIRST_ box on top. “So, uh... you think maybe we should go ahead and unpack that one while we’re waiting on them?”

 

Curtis nibbled on his own pizza and thought about that. If the furniture _was_ coming now, it’d probably be late before everything got moved in and put where it needed to be. They’d planned on skipping the gym in the morning, but they still both had to work, so... “Yeah,” he said, “probably a good idea.”

 

Takashi got up and carried the box over, setting it on the floor between them. “Got a knife?”

 

Curtis went into his left hip pocket and came out with a little red Swiss Army knife. He cut the tape holding one end of the box closed, and Takashi did likewise on his end, and they opened the box.

 

There was a hammer and a package of little nails on top, and under that, under a sheet of thick cardboard, were the pictures. All of them small, all of them framed.

 

They already had wall space picked out for this--the expanses of bare wall on either side of the fireplace. They took turns pounding nails and hanging pictures; there was no plan, no specific arrangement, but that wasn’t the point of this.

 

There were recent photos of the two of them, some by themselves, some with friends and Curtis’ family. Some from space, some from around the Garrison, a few from Houston--from the Space Center, from the rodeo, from Mardi Gras in Galveston. One with Keith between them, giving them both bunny ears.

 

There was one photo of them with Adam’s parents, in front of a modest bronze statue in Prince’s Island Park that they’d all agreed was a very nice gesture even though aside from the uniform and the glasses it looked almost _nothing_ like Adam.

 

There were some photos of Takashi and Coran and the Paladins on Altea (all of them with Takashi giving Coran metal bunny ears), and some of Curtis with the _Atlas_ bridge crew or the chorus--oh, there was that one from Clear Day, the one with the MFE pilots and the costumes, right before Curtis gently excused himself from that group to go watch Takashi arm-wrestle...

 

And then there were the older ones.

 

There were photos of Curtis with his family, and photos of Takashi with Adam’s parents... none with his own. Not yet. Maybe someday, Curtis hoped, but not yet. There was still work to be done there and Takashi had done far more than his fair share of it.

 

Takashi and Adam, with a much younger Keith between them giving them both bunny ears. Curtis and Adam in their black formal uniforms, either before or after a chorus concert. Takashi and Adam with what looked like the ice-covered Bow River in the background, with Adam in a polo shirt and light jacket and Takashi in what looked like at least three heavy coats, a scarf, a hat, and earmuffs. Curtis and Adam at Stampede, with Curtis looking right at home and Adam in a cowboy hat he’d clearly been sweet-talked into wearing for the picture.

 

They saved the oldest one for last. This one wasn’t meant to go on the wall. It would go on the mantel, right in the center. They’d found it while they were cleaning Adam’s classroom storage out a few months back, and they both knew right away they needed to put it somewhere special.

 

It was the three of them at the Grand Canyon. It must have been taken right after they all graduated--that’s what Veronica seemed to think, she vaguely remembered taking the picture.

 

The positioning immediately struck them both as strange, because Takashi and Adam were definitely dating at that point. But in the photo, Takashi stood on the right in a black tank top and baseball cap and sunglasses, and Curtis stood on the left in an Astros T-shirt and a blue cap. Adam stood behind and between them in a plain orange T-shirt, one arm around Curtis’ shoulders and one around Takashi’s, pulling them all together.

 

He could have just been responding to Veronica telling them to scoot in so she could get everyone in the picture. It would have been absolutely in character for him to go _okay fine Ronnie I will MAKE us scoot in_ , _how about THAT_ and just physically smush the three of them together _._ But that wasn’t what it looked like--not with that smile. That wasn’t Adam’s tight little annoyed smile. It was genuine and warm.

 

He couldn’t have known back then. He couldn’t have known how things were going to turn out.

 

But there was something taped to the back of the frame--a memory card in a little plastic case labeled _contingency plan_ in Adam’s handwriting _\--_ that made Curtis wonder about that sometimes.

 

Sometimes Curtis wondered what Takashi saw in a choir nerd who learned new languages for fun, and sometimes he kind of wanted to ask Takashi that.

 

But he never did. He didn’t need to. He knew Takashi loved him for who he was, and he loved Takashi for who _he_ was, and wasn’t that all that really mattered in the end?

 

Still... it was probably a good thing Adam left them that video. Maybe this would have happened without it, but Takashi probably would have had to make the first move. No... he _definitely_ would have had to make the first move.

 

They’d both cried when they found that picture, and even now Curtis could feel a lump in his throat when he looked at it. Takashi’s eyes were a little damp and a little red, too. They set it on the mantel together, and then they stepped back to admire their handiwork.

 

“It looks great, baby.” Takashi wrapped his arm around Curtis’ waist and kissed the side of his head.

 

“I’m glad you thought of it.” Curtis kissed him back. “It already feels like home.”

 

Takashi opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of his ringing phone interrupted him. “Hello? Yeah. _...yeah?_ Okay--it’s going to 314 Ash _dale_ this time, right? You’re sure. You’re _positive._ Okay. Awesome. Thanks.” He hung up. “It was all still there. The people that live there were kinda freaking out but nobody messed with it, so they’ve got it back on the truck and it’s on the way over right now.”

 

Curtis huffed out a huge sigh of relief and dropped his head onto Takashi’s shoulder. “Oh, good. Where’s Ashglen, anyway?”

 

“No idea, let’s see...” Takashi pulled his phone out again and brought up the map. “Oh shit, it’s _three blocks away--”_

 

The doorbell rang, and they both looked out the living room window at the huge truck sitting in front of the house, and they cracked up.

 

Everything was going to be fine.


End file.
